


Processor over matter

by Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Face-Sitting, Fluff and Smut, Light Petting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Valve Fingering (Transformers), Valve Oral (Transformers), Yoga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 19:16:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20051170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves/pseuds/Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves
Summary: Prowl is in the middle of his heat cycle. He thought yoga would help soothe his restlessness, but unfortunately, Jazz invites himself in.





	Processor over matter

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit different (and shorter) from my usual stuff. I LOVE tfa Prowl, but he's...difficult to write for. As main characters, Jazz and Prowl are difficult. I mean...they're normal, compared to other bots. Seriously theres not enough trauma to work with. BUT. this was a fic for my best buddy, cookie, who is @cookienerdzzz at tumblr and is an AMAZING artist. With that, i hope both she, and you guys enjoy!

Processor over matter. Words that Prowl clung on to for years now. His old master, Yoketron, stood by these string of words like he'd hang onto his own sparkling. Prowl thought of Yoketron, standing before him as he tried again and again to outdo him. He failed every time. But his master was never disappointed. Everytime Prowl failed, he smiled. He wasn't aiming for the victory. But rather, he was proud of the progress. It was why Prowl was never discouraged from trying again and again. It made his masters optics gleam unlike anything he'd ever seen.

"And lotus pose."

Prowl was having these thoughts as he was walking to his room, and now that he was finally alone, he decided some stretches would do. He sat down, crossed his legs, and sighed. Focused. No distractions. Processor over matter. This was easier said than done, as his processor gave him a 'heat cycle ' warning. It had been a long time since he's felt this desperate need. It was mild, at the moment, and Prowl dismissed the notification promptly. It always started with slight increase of temperature. Not to mention Prowl became a bit temperamental. Optimus giving a lecture wasn't very helpful. His inner timer beeped. Time to change poses.

"And Shavasana."

He undid his legs, laid down on his back, legs and arms stretched out. He stared up at his tree, sighing. Gorgeous really. Strong, firm, yet delicate, and generous. It reminded him of someone, and he wished it didn't. His body immediately flared up, having enjoyed the fleeting thought of having a mate for this heat. Prowl wasn't a virgin by any means, but not once had he been with someone during such a desperate time.

"Relax. Intake. Outtake."

Cybertronian's didn't need air, but the feeling of ventilation circulating through a system helped cool his circuits, if only slightly.

"Processor over matter. Processor over matter."

Your body was nothing to your mind. The mind was strong, and the control of it was absolutely necessary, if he wanted to honor his late sensei's teachings. He sent his message to Ratchet, in regards to his troublesome needs, so he should be allowed to be out of patrol for at least a few days. He thought about zooming down the streets, alongside Bumblebee. His temperature gave another small increase, and he inhaled, and exhaled again. 

"You do NOT have those thoughts. ESPECIALLY not of him."

Damn heat. It made ANYONE look attractive. Bumblebee, small, eager disposition. Bulkhead, big, broad chest, thick legs. Optimus, blue, supple lips. Ratchet-  
He opened his optics(not realizing that he even offlined them) and shook his helm harshly. 

"You are NOT going down the Ratchet hole."

His mind took that way differently right after he said it. Though really, what harm were thoughts? He was going to be alone, plenty of time to resist temptations. He had the door locked anyway.

"Hey Prowler."

Or. He THOUGHT he locked it. He sat up quickly, looking at the doorway. Jazz was leaning up against the door frame, cans in his hands.

"Jazz. Can I help you?"

"Is it cool if I come in? Ratchet said you were acting up lately, figured I'd cheer you up. If you want. I don't wanna invade."

Jazz would've said 'I'd hate to be a Bumblebee', but decided otherwise. He hadn't been here long enough for that, nor should he be talking like that to Bumblebee's main mech. Jazz was never one to cause waves. And Prowl admired that about him. He couldn't be here, however. The last place he should be, was right here. With Prowl. When everyone was fairly warned not to come near him. Jazz was a grown mech, he wouldn't be too offended to be put out, especially delicately.

"Please, come in."

Well that didn't work. Jazz walked on in, closing the door behind him. He sat down in front of Prowl, offering him a can. Black tar of Thentis. Jazz shrugged.

"I know it ain't no Nova Cronal, but I figured a little taste of Cybertron would perk you back up. If you want it. If not, it's chill, more for me."

A little taste of Cybertron. Maybe that'd be enough to soothe himself. He nodded, holding his can out in front of him.

"Very kind of you, Jazz. Cheers?"

"Cheers."

Their cans clanked, and they both took a sip. Jazz didn't spend as much time off of Cybertron as Prowl did, so the look on Prowl's face made sense. What would taste like some off the mill can of fuel, was triple filtered to Prowl. Jazz chuckled.

"Hey, there's that smile everybody's been missin'. Guess I'm a good medic. Better than Ratchet, maybe I should switch fields."

"You'd certainly have a better berthside manner. But Ratchet isn't bad at all, honestly. Just hurt."

"Ah I'm just pokin' fun. I respect the guy. Still, he could use some coolant."

"Perhaps we should convince him to do stretches with us."

Jazz couldn't help but snort into his palm, and Prowl swore he felt his spark throb. Jazz always did look at his best when he was smiling or laughing. Or just, being happy really.

"Ratchet? Stretches? We offer him that, he'll beat us so bad, we won't ever be able to do stretches again."

There was a comfortable silence as they looked up at the tree. Jazz and Bulkhead were the only bots that truly understood the beauty of such fauna, or the care he took to maintain its growth. Jazz and Bulkhead. He felt his servo grip tightly on the can, leaving scratch marks on its label. Primus he had a shameful thought, purely from putting their two names together. Jazz pursed his lips as he looked back down at Prowl.

"You know, you don't like the brand, ya could just say so."

Prowl looked at his can, sighing. He scratched it as though he detested its existence. 

"No, apologies. I'm...merely a little anxious. I think I need to stretch, move my limbs some more."

"Oh no, I feel you, mech. You want me to do some stuff with you? Or you like solo stuff?"

Perfect. Tell him you'd like to be alone. Get him out of there.

"If you'd like to join me, you're free to."

Okay, you could've done worse. You gave him a choice. Course that wasn't very fair. Jazz was so kind and complaint, that he would no doubt accept. 

"Well, I'd love to join ya, since it's cool by you."

Prowl really hated being right sometimes. Alright. A few yoga poses. With Jazz. Not a bad thing, despite his thoughts saying otherwise. 

"If you're sure. Let's begin then, shall we?"

"Sounds good. Which ones do you do?"

Prowl stood up, getting a mat for Jazz. The wood floors didn't really bother them as they would with humans, but it was rude not to offer him one as well. 

"I actually do a few stretches by human regimens, meant to promote support in the legs."

"Oh, I thought you were keeping up with Yoketron's methods."

"It's a blend."

"Oh, well you show me, I'll follow."

"Gladly."

Prowl sighed, trying to cool his systems. His temperature was ever steadily rising, and he really hoped Jazz didn't notice.

"This one is called 'Vriksasana'. It's meant to improve balance and stability in the legs, as well as strength in the hips."

Prowl shifted his weight to one leg, choosing to start with the left. 

"The entire sole of the pede remains in contact with the floor. The right knee is bent and the right pede is placed on the left inner thigh, or in half lotus position. The hips should be open, with the bent knee pointing towards the side. Hands up, clasped. Understand?"

"Yeah, think so. Like this?"

Jazz followed suit, but his pose wasn't as stern as Prowl's was. His was a bit more lax. It was understandable, given that Yoketron focused more on core training, where this was limb training. He, by no means, meant it as spiteful towards his masters teachings, it was just that training deferred student by student. Jazz may have the same mold, but his frame was different, needing training that wasn't the same as his. Prowl shook his helm.

"Too lax. Needs to be straight."

Prowl couldn't relate to that. Jazz looked down at himself, lightly scowling. 

"You mind fixing me, then? I'm lookin' at you, but apparently I'm not getting it."

He really shouldn't. He should tell Jazz to perhaps practice elsewhere, or to try it again a few times by himself. However, his legs were moving before he even realized it, and he held the others hands, helping him clasp them firmly, and raised them above his helm. He probably should've let go during this explanation, but he didn't, choosing to hold the back of his hands, staying very close to his side.

"See, hands straight up. Not tense, but enough for energon flow. Not to mention your core."

He stood up in front of him, and placed his hands on his hips, aligning him correctly. He got a notification, yet again, for the rising temperature in his systems, and as before, dismissed it. Jazz was directly in front of him, with his hips in his hands. Jazz tried not to dwell on it, despite how he slowly ran his hands up and down, from his chest, down to his hips. He could even feel that Jazz got a wax today, even a little touch up on his paint. He knew Jazz wasn't so cruel, but it felt intentional. 

"See? Aligned. Just like this."

"I feel you."

He REALLY wished he hadn't said that. It brought forth two notifications this time, with Prowl quickly dismissing them. Relax. Processor over matter. You're teaching Jazz, that's all.

"Now, hold it for ten seconds. Then switch legs, doing the same for the other leg. Inhale, exhale."

Jazz followed his suit, steadying his breathing. So serene, so stoic. Even though he couldn't see past his visors, he knew he had offlined his optics, trying to keep himself relaxed. This was a new position for him, and it was clearly new to him, and Prowl appreciated him for trying. Upon switching the pedes, he spoke.

"This is different from Yoketron's teachings, I dig it."

"Well, if it'd make you feel comfortable, we could try some of yours as well. We're quite different, I'd love to see how Yoketron trained you."

"Oh, for sure. I favor this one, focuses on core stuff. Watch."

Jazz put his pede down, then laid on the mat, waiting for Prowl to join.

"It's a bit of a strain, but does magic for your core. Spread your legs, just a bit. Plant your pedes firmly on to the floor. Yeah, like that. Now that your hips are up, clasp your hands together, on the floor."

Jazz moved his body, according to his own instructions. He turned his head to look at Prowl, scowling slightly.

"Uh, gotta lift yourself up higher there, Prowler. Mind if I fix you?"

Yes. He very much minded. The idea of Jazz touching him at ALL, was a terrifying idea. It's why he told him just that. Mentally. 

"If you don't mind, I'd very much appreciate it."

"Not a problem."

Jazz stood up, and walked over to Prowl, going onto his knees. He held him by his lower back, and pushed him upwards, and use his other hand to push his chest down. Prowl lightly gulped, trying to focus on Jazz's words.

"See, aft stays up, upper body as low as you can put it. He calls it 'the bridge'. Comfortable?"

"I-I'm fine."

"You sure? You feel hot. Literally, your temp is warm."

"I...just haven't been feeling well lately."

The problem was, Prowl was feeling TOO good right now. Notifications kept popping up as fast as he could delete them.

"Like, physically? Do you have tension somewhere?"

"N-no I just-"

"Because if you need help, I'm here. You were Yoketron's top student, I'd hate to have something wrong with you. Is it down here?"

Prowl appreciated Jazz's kindness, and Jazz's thumbs rubbing into his lower hips was an extremely kind gesture. While kind, he simultaneously wanted to jab Jazz right in his face. He covered his mouth with his hand, trying not to show satisfaction. 

"Better?"

"I-I did say I was fine, Jazz."

"Am...I making you uncomfortable?"

Jazz had leaned down, lips pursed in worry.

"You don't look alright, does it hurt someplace else?"

"I-it's very kind of you, truly, but I really don't need this."

He pulled his hands off the floor, trying to push Jazz away by his chest. Which, given how smooth he felt under his hands, told him this was a bad idea.

"Prowl? You look and feel like you're gonna overheat. You want me to take you to Ratchet?"

"NO!"

He didn't mean to shout his response, but when his mind went to Ratchet's expert fingers teasing and fingering his valve, he was immediately terrified. Jazz sighed, and let go of his hips, grabbing onto Prowl's chin.

"There's somethin' you ain't tellin' me. Come on. I'm your friend, right? If you're not alright, I gotta know. I trust you, you can trust me."

It took far more restraint in Prowl not to kiss at the fingers so close to his mouth. He knew they'd feel soft to the touch. He took a shaky inhale, before deciding he was right. If their situation was in reverse, Prowl would also be adamant. He looked up at the visor, and decided to come out with it. At least Jazz would leave upon hearing it. He had no reason to stay.

"I...I started my heat. And I...apologize, for allowing you in here during this."

"Oh. OH."

Jazz scanned through Prowl's entire body, as if looking for some germ or bug on him. Prowl expected Jazz to let him go and awkwardly leave, like any normal mech. But Jazz didn't. 

"Prowl. You said you trust me, right?"

"Well, y-yes. But what does that have to do with-"

That was when he was silenced. With Jazz's lips on his own. Behind his own visor, his optics were wide, completely taken aback. Soft, smooth lips pressed against his own. Prowl was incredibly confused, and he wanted to ponder on this, but when Jazz's body scooted itself past his legs, he decided questions were meant for later. He wasn't aware of how long their kiss lasted, but once Jazz parted, Prowl felt absolutely breathless. They stared at each other for a moment, chests rising and falling as they tried to catch their breaths. Prowl went stiff as he felt fingers slowly rub circles around his valve lips.

"Y-you opened my panel already?"

"Uh, nope. You've been open since I suggested we see Ratchet."

"And you didn't SAY anything?!"

Jazz didn't mean to exclaim as though he was upset, but as he covered his face with his palms, completely humiliated. Primus sake, Jazz must've thought he was into old mechs, and wanted to go to Ratchet for his given situation. Jazz tried not to laugh, finding it not only hilarious, but adorable. Prowl was usually calm and collected, so seeing such a flood of emotions, reminded Jazz that Prowl was in fact, human. Where it counted anyway;right in his spark.

"Hey hey, baby, easy. Heat makes us think and do some weird stuff. Relax."

Upon Prowl ignoring him, Jazz had to resort to leaning down lower, pressing his lips against his neck, and upon hearing the sigh escape from his mouth, continued his slow, firm motions around his valve. 

"Come on, hands off your face."

Prowl listened, although incredibly reluctantly. His dentae was gritted, and despite his firm face, his body was completely weak, slowly grinding against his palm.

"Y-you're enjoying this too much."

"I enjoy helping you. You work hard, and you need help. Plus...well, be lyin' if I said I never thought about it."

Prowl's processor was hazy, unable to comprehend everything that was happening around him. Jazz's lips roaming at his neck, his fingers teasing his valve with the promise of entry. And Prowl was absolutely suffering.

"J-Jazz. I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound rude, but I NEED you. Please."

Jazz didn't hesitate. Pressing his forehead against Prowl's, and slowly slid two fingers inside his valve, forcing Prowl to arch his back, and his lips were left trembling. Apparently he was so lost in pleasure, Jazz cocked his helm to the side.

"You goo-"

Jazz didn't get to finish as Jazz was suddenly on the floor, with Prowl on top of him, with his lips on his, and glossa sliding against his own. Prowl parted their lips a moment later, coolant connecting their mouths. Prowl took off Jazz's shades, and held his face, forcing his optics on his own visor.

"Jazz. I can't take it anymore. Please. PLEASE help me. It's completely unbearable. Please, n-no more stalling."

He saw surprise in those wide, blue optics. He wished he could enjoy and admire such a gorgeous face, but once he felt fingers slowly push into his wet folds, he couldn't do anything but absolutely melt. Jazz kept his forehead against his as his fingers pumped themselves in and out rather quickly, making Prowl whimper and melt over him, mouth refusing to shut itself. Prowl felt filthy for enjoying the wet, slick sounds.

"F-faster, please, I-I'm close, I swear."

"I got you Prowler."

Jazz couldn't help but be stunned by the trembling bot on top of him. Steam was rolling off his body like a sauna, his optics were glazed over, and his poor valve was flooding down into his hand, and onto the floor. Jazz slowly ran his glossa along his chin, lapping at the coolant running lazily down Prowl's lips.

"You're getting close, aren't you?"

"Y-yes, I'm close, P-primus sake I'm so close, please, I-I just need-!"

With a loud swear, Prowl overloaded, with his valve tightening around Jazz's fingers, and a steady stream of fluid spilling down below. Jazz hadn't had his turn yet, but he too, felt as if he was in a daze, just imagining how it'd feel, replacing his fingers with his spike.

"You...you good, Prowl?"

"I...I'm...much better. Primus, t-thank you. I've...never had anyone during my heat. A-and I apologize for being impulsive."

"Pfft. Nah, I know how it is. Knew what I was gettin' myself into."

Prowl let out a soft chuckle, spark soaring at Jazz's attitude. Jazz was always such a kind, supportive bot. Enough so, that he leaned in, giving Jazz another soft kiss. Jazz appreciated it, given how he sighed into it. Once Jazz's hands slowly roamed up his thighs, Prowl had to force the kiss to end.

"I-I'm sorry. I...fear I need more."

"Already? How many rounds do you last?"

"...more than I'd like to admit, for one who embraces the notion of processor over matter."

Jazz scowled, only to flash him a grin, full of white, stunning dentae. 

"Alright, I got an idea. If I need you to stop, I'll tap you three times. But I know just what to do for a needy mech like you~"

Something about that look in his optics, sent a shiver down his spinal ridge. 

"What are you impl-HEY!"

Prowl knew he was a light, taunt frame, but being picked up like he weighed nothing, was rather demeaning. Though, soon as he felt Jazz's hands squeeze his thighs, and his lips at his valve, Prowl more or less forgot about his self conscious thoughts. Then he felt Jazz's glossa run against his valve folds. It was so sudden, and so crass, that Prowl couldn't fight freezing up momentarily. 

"I-I...ohh…~"

Jazz had DEFINITELY done this before, and was definitely enthusiastic. Prowl held onto Jazz's helm, forcing his face even further in. Prowl refused to ease his grip, and Jazz only felt more inclined to lick and suckle at whatever he could, even sucking at some folds, only to release, making a loud, dirty 'pop'(that aroused Prowl far more than he'd like to admit). Prowl probably would've lasted longer than a few seconds, had Jazz's grip on his thighs not tightened. He overloaded again, optics damn near going out as he let out a very unrestrained cry. He was left panting as Jazz lifted him off slowly, licking the thick, pink liquid off those plump, grinning lips of his.

"Felt good, right?"

"Y...yes. V-very good. Thank you."

Prowl tried to move off of him, only, Jazz refused to let his grip loosen.

"Now hold on there. I didn't say you could leave. You got more left in the tank, right?"

"Well yes, but-"

"Then? Get right back on here. I can keep going. Show me how much stamina you got~"

Prowl was going to refuse, but when he felt Jazz kiss at his node, he knew he couldn't refuse.

"A-alright. Since you're so adamant."

"Just trying to help, mech. Now, you get your fill of me, alright?"

Prowl smirked, and sat right back down, rubbing his node as Jazz's glossa explored his folds even further. He knew how much fluid was running down Jazz's face, and found himself only hungry for more.

"With pleasure~"

And Prowl went on as much as he needed, with Jazz accepting mouthful after mouthful of his overloads. Each one met with the same enthusiasm as before. Prowl was a two wheeler, and was used to people hopping on his seat for a ride. He was happy to get a ride of his own for a change. 

\-------

Prowl yawned as he walked into the living room, opening the fridge and plucking a cup of energon. Ratchet nodded at him as he walked in, box full of tools.

"Ah. Someone finally left their room. How're you holding up?"

"Well, thank you Ratchet. I think I'll be ready to go on patrol tomorrow."

"Good, glad the prescription worked."

Prowl raised a brow as Ratchet started sorting through his tools.

"You...didn't give me any medication."

"Oh, I did. Why else did you think I sent Jazzy boy up there to see you?"

Prowl felt his cheeks flush, and his body tense.

"What...does that mean?"

"Means that I didn't want to handle your patrol areas for a whole week, while you were handling your yogurt slinger like some pervert, so I sent Jazz up there."

"W...so you're saying...you sent Jazz up to see me. Knowing we'd frag...solely because you didn't want to patrol my usual spots?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Lemme tell ya, the route by the park? Always get bird slag on the hood. Your thing not mine."

Prowl scoffed, hand on his chest, as if offended.

"And you just hoped your plan would work?"

"Oh no, I knew it'd work."

"Oh really? And just HOW did you know that?"

"Because. Ah, there it is."

Ratchet found the tool he was looking for, and was about to walk out, but found himself staying at the doorway, looking at Prowl.

"Ah, right. Because you young bots are a bunch of sluts."

"I-I, excuse me? I'll have you know I'm VERY controlled during my heat."

"Yeah? Well lemme ask you something. You thought of me for a minute before he went up there, didn't you?"

Prowl chose to just stare at Ratchet. On one hand, he was being an aft. On the other, he DID get him through his heat cycle blissfully. Ratchet shook his helm, and walked out.

"I knew it. Everyone just wants to frag the medic."

Prowl was about to say something, but chose to just sigh. Yoketron was rolling over in the well of allsparks, wasn't he?


End file.
